


alive, with closed eyes

by fathomsno



Category: Sentinels of Illdissa - Hannah Ward
Genre: Engagement, F/M, Fantasy, First Kiss, extramarital angst, oh these two, these two
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-09
Updated: 2017-05-09
Packaged: 2018-10-29 21:13:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10862208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fathomsno/pseuds/fathomsno
Summary: At Narkita's engagement ball to Tomas Valas, she fears it's too late for her and her stoic bodyguard. But it just might be right on time.





	alive, with closed eyes

**Author's Note:**

> ALL RIGHTS GO TO HANNAH WARD. I OWN NOTHING. IF, AT ANY TIME, HANNAH WARD REQUESTS THIS TO BE TAKEN DOWN, IT WILL BE TAKEN DOWN IMMEDIATELY. 
> 
>  
> 
> Literally 99% of this is speculation so take it all with a shakerful of salt.  
> But ugh my babies I had to indulge! So the timeline is probably a bit skewy (i.e., mush before her marriage...but her engagement is kind of marriagey?)

 

  
Four years of trailing after Narkita had convinced Kesh of two things.

One, she was unfailingly polite- no matter who she was speaking with, no matter if she was in a ballroom or a fish market, no matter how gravely they had insulted her. And two, she trusted him almost as much as she trusted her own dear sister.

Neither of these things explained her peculiar behavior this evening.

"How does this dress look to you?" Narkita called from her room, where the door was cracked open. Kesh roused himself from leaning against the wall and turned to look.

"Hush, Megs," she said more quietly. "Of course he would like to see my dress."

Kesh would like to see a great _many_ things of hers, none of which were proper or entirely called for. He'd had too much wine with dinner. He blamed it on the cold weather, on his not having been with a woman for over two years now. 

Not on Narkita's impending nuptials.

She stepped out from the door wrapped in something shiny and blue. It started just above her breasts with sparkling froth, and cascaded down over her figure into a full, even frothier skirt, like she was garbed in some sort of rushing waterfall. Her dark hair was piled atop her head in a casual mess of loose curls, not meant to be beautiful, but fucking beautiful anyways.

"What do you think?" Narkita asked, sounding very uncertain. Her low and usually sonorous voice even shook a little on the first word. "Is it all right?"

 _It's beautiful. You're beautiful. The smile you give me over breakfast is beautiful._ Kesh rubbed his jaw and tried to think of something polite. "It's lovely, Kita. Very...watery."

"Watery," she repeated to herself.

"It's, ah, fit for a queen," he corrected himself hastily. "Lovely."

He'd already said that. Damn.

"Come back in here, and I'll fix your hair!" Old Megs called out through the open door. Narkita didn't even look at him as she went back in.

This was so very unlike her. She had never been this self-conscious, not even as a teenaged girl when he'd first met her. She'd looked him dead in the eye, smiled warmly, and asked him his name.

That had taken him aback. What the hell was some teenaged chit doing with such elegant self-possession? Why was she wasting it on him?

But tonight she was anything but self-possessed. She'd clung to him all day, tucking her arm into his in absolute silence. Kat had chattered away, blithely unaware of the strange transformation her sister had undergone.

Unease had coiled up tight in Kesh's gut- worse than the time they'd been robbed by bandits, worse than the time Kat had fallen sick off of bad fish, worse even than the time Kita had nearly drowned. Something was amiss and she wouldn't tell him what it was.

He was too worried to be hurt over it. He was her fucking bodyguard, for gods' sakes. She didn't have to tell him anything. It worried him because she had, for the past four years, told him everything.

"Yes, Megs," came her voice close to the door. "Yes. Of course you may come. A girl only has one engagement ball- Megs! You morbid old dear!"

Even her cheery laughter sounded forced. Gods, what a hellish night. Kesh steeled himself as the door opened. _She's not yours. She was never going to be yours, and you're going to get ahold of yourself._

Then she stepped out, and his self-control evaporated.

She hadn't let Megs do a thing to her hair except weave some sort of sparkly shit through it. She looked like a goddess tumbled down from the heavens, with stars and moons in her hair.

_Get ahold of yourself, you miserable bastard._

"You look beautiful," he said, and his strained politeness didn't even fool him.

"Thank you," she murmured, still not meeting his eyes. He stepped forward and took her arm.

"Kita."

Finally she looked up at him, and fuck, her dark eyes were so full of pain it took everything Kesh had not to pull her into his arms and swear to make it right.

"What?" she whispered, those gorgeous eyes sweeping over his face, looking at him like he wasn't a piece of shit off the streets.

Kesh cleared his throat, thought of her on the beach in that sinfully sheer wrap of hers. He cleared his throat again. "You'll be late. We should go."

She sighed and looked away. He got the distinct impression he'd failed her, and was suddenly aware of a yawning sense of loss. Good gods. The engagement ball was tonight.

_Get ahold of yourself._

Narkita squared her shoulders, becoming in an instant the regal woman that prick Tomas Valas was marrying. "I suppose we must."

 

The Valas estate was glowing unnaturally bright, with light pouring out of every open window and door. Laughter and music floated over to where Narkita was forcing herself out of the carriage.

Every step seemed to hurt. Of course she'd known she would have to marry a lordling, known it since she was fifteen and she angrily ranted about it to Kat for two hours. But it had never seemed real.

_Tomas Valas._

She'd met him along with the rest of the bunch, danced with him a few times. He was a decent man. He didn't beat women. He didn't over-imbibe and he wasn't a murderer or a rake.

But he wasn't Theo.

That was a terrible and traitorous thought, but Narkita figured that if she was going to be shackled to a loveless marriage for the rest of her life, she was allowed to dream- at least a little- about her friend for the past four years.

She forced herself to take the first few steps towards her fate, and found she could go no further. Gods.

Kat and her father had left earlier with Kat's silly friends, saying they would meet her when she arrived. Now she wished she had gone with them. Perhaps the banter would have distracted her from this awful nausea.

She would have to sleep with Tomas, she knew. Perhaps more than once. She would have to sleep with him until she conceived an heir.

"The ball is that way."

Theo's rough voice caught her by surprise, and she startled, meeting his fathomless eyes without meaning to. She'd learned early on that he kept most of his emotions there. Right now they were pensive, wary. He was worried about something.

"Theo," she said, sounding too weak and whispery. "I'm afraid."

He nodded. She had liked that about him from the moment she met him- he never belittled weakness or emotion. He accepted what was and moved on.

"You'll be fine," he said, taking her arm in his again. She could feel the warmth radiating off of him, even from beneath his sleeve. "Your betrothed is in there."

The root of the problem.

Narkita didn't want a betrothed, and least of all a man she didn't- oh, gods, she was in deep. It was too late for her.

She grit her teeth together and began walking, and felt Theo measure his steps to match hers. Tomas had never done that- consider her steps. Silly of her to think of that now, as if walking someone's speed was a basis for a marriage. Tomas simply walked faster, that was all. He was efficient.

"Why are you afraid?" Theo asked after they had gotten closer to the fearsome glitter of the Valas estate. He cleared his throat after he said it, and she realized she was making him nervous.

"I- "

 _Oh, have it out with_. Narkita huffed to give herself courage, thought of Theo's gruff but unflinching friendship and kindness. It had been four years of trust. One silly ball couldn't undo that.

"I don't want to get married."

There, it was out. What would he think of her? Would he infer? Oh, gods, if he inferred, if he figured out that she-

"Makes sense."

Narkita laughed, and realized she was laughing, and laughed some more. Gods, she was nervous. "I suppose it does."

"You're a wee thing yet," he went on. "But all will be well."

A _wee_ thing? What the _hell_ did he mean by that? She was nearly as tall as he was, and he was gigantic. And she was seventeen! She ought to have been married a year ago!

_Wee thing?_

Narkita opened her mouth to demand what the hell he was thinking of, but right then they entered the front hall. Six footmen rushed to take her wrap, press a glass of fine summer wine into her hand, and escort her into the ballroom.

She glanced back over her shoulder and saw him left behind, suddenly looking very lost. He lifted a hand in farewell, and then turned and vanished into the night.

 

The ballroom was chaos.

Dozens upon dozens of finely dressed women and men laughed and chattered together, servants in fine livery scurried through the crowd with platters of food and wine. A small group of musicians played in the cramped balcony space above the floor, which had been elegantly chalked and now was smudged into confusion by noble feet.

Narkita had never felt more alone. Her stupid heart felt torn in two and trampled on. She couldn't stop seeing him turn and walk away from her. She was an absolute fool.

"Narkita, there you are!"

Her father came out of the crowd with her sister in tow. "Just in time. You look stunning, darling. Absolutely radiant."

He pressed a kiss to her cheek, and Narkita forced herself to smile, though inside was darkness and fear and Theo waving farewell.

Kat was fiddling with her fan. Their father opened his mouth and began to prose on about the Valas family, and all he'd found out about their lineage.

Surrounded by her own engagement ball, Narkita decided it was high time to crumble. She had tried so hard to show Theo how she felt. Perhaps she hadn't tried hard enough. But gods! The bloody man was oblivious!

She'd kissed his cheek and head at every opportunity. She'd eaten meals with him, taught him how to dance, gone on long horse rides with him, drawn his likeness, told him her dreams and secret fears.

Just this summer, when her father had gone off to the north of the country for a few weeks, Narkita had worn that ridiculous wrap to the beach and fallen _accidentally_ into the sea. She knew full well how diaphanous that wrap became, how well it clung to her body. And if that didn't show him, she didn't know what would.

"Here he comes now," said her father, sounding joyous, and Kita turned with an honest smile on her face. Theo. He hadn't left her after all.

Her stupid hopes were shattered when Tomas Valas smoothly walked up and bowed over her hand. "Good evening, milord."

"Milady," he replied, and kissed her cheek. "My dear, you look simply ravishing."

Ravishing had been the damn idea.

Gods. Now her chest was getting hot. She tried to think of anything else but those smoldering dark eyes of his.

The sky, perhaps. The trees on her estate. The sea- shit, there she went again. Narkita was sure her hair was going to set fire any minute.

"It looks as if the musicians are ready to begin," Tomas commented in that polished, offhand manner of his. He was suave and charming and even rather handsome, but Narkita wanted gruff and dry-witted with a heartbreaking smile.

Tomas turned to her. The heat and light and crush of the ballroom seemed to concentrate all in his focused gaze, and Narkita became absolutely sure she was going to be sick.

On his left hand glinted a ring. There was a matching one somewhere in his pocket. The floor began to sway under Narkita's feet. Her head pounded with laughter and the clinking of glasses.

Blood roared relentlessly in her ears. She watched Tomas open his mouth.

"Would you care to dance, my dear?"

Narkita wanted to scream. "I- I need air," she gasped, and fled through the crowd, curtsying and apologizing her way to the bay windows. She threw herself outside, running across the expensive tile to the balcony's edge.

The stars were beautiful. She collapsed on the stone rail, uncaring of her stupid silk dress that could have been sold for a dozen children's suppers, and wept.

"Kita?"

Oh, gods. The night just couldn't get any worse. Narkita desperately dried her eyes and swept her hair back into place. By the time Theo emerged from the shadows, his eyes brimming with concern, she was set to rights again.

The unwept tears churned in her chest, and she quieted them. Or tried to.

"Kita," he said again, stopping just a few feet away from her. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, I- I needed some air, is all," she lied, and hated the way her voice shook even to her own ears. "The ballroom is stuffy."

"You were crying," he pointed out in that dry tone of his. "Stuffy ballrooms don't make you cry."

All of a sudden she hated him, hated his laughter and his seven different smiles and the way he knew her, sometimes better than she knew herself. "Maybe they do, Kesh."

If he was a man to frown, he would have done so. Instead he moved closer, close enough to be dancing with her, and kept his frowning in his eyes.

"What's wrong?" he repeated, softly and gently, like she was some sort of delicate flower. "Kita. You've been strange all day."

"Strange, am I?" Narkita sniffed. Hell, the tears were coming back. "Strange in a watery dress."

He chuckled at that, and it was just as deep and velvet-soft as it had ever been. "I don't know shit about dresses. I'm sorry. It's a lovely dress."

He paused, and then very softly he added, "It's lovelier with you in it."

Narkita lost her breath for a second. He had never complimented her like that before. Had he gone mad?

"Theo," she breathed, "what-"

"This is a bad time," he interrupted her, looking towards the ballroom. "Anyone could hear."

"Then whisper it," Narkita hissed. The way he was looking at her sent fire down her veins. Maybe it wasn't all lost.

"You're getting engaged," he whispered. "I can't- I can't do this, Kita."

He meant it. He really meant it. Nothing was lost at all. She had the world and everything else just within her grasp.

"I know, I know, you're a man of honor," Narkita whispered back, her heart swelling with joy. "But I am not."

She licked her fingers- his gaze followed that- and reached up to put the lanterns out. They were plunged into darkness, and just as Narkita was blinking and trying to adjust, she felt him place his mouth right next to her ear.

"I love you," he whispered, his breath shaking. He kissed her neck so gently she barely felt it at first. Heat blossomed there the instant he pulled away. "I've loved you since you read to me in that fever."

Now her heart soared. She forgot all about the ballroom, and her charming fiancé, and her father's expectations and even the threat of marital exile to the southern cliffs. He loved her. He'd loved her even longer than she'd loved him, for gods' sakes.

"Kita," he whispered in the dark. His breath was warm over her mouth. "Say something."

"Of course I love you," she whispered back. "I love you with all of my heart, I loved you from-"

He cut her off by pressing his warm, firm mouth to hers, and Narkita felt her knees go weak. Her hand was in his- when had he taken her hand?- and he folded it close to his heart. She had no idea how to go about kissing someone, but Theo seemed to know what he was doing.

He cupped his other hand around the back of her head, and bit gently at her lip. When she gasped, she let in his tongue, and oh gods, the kiss transformed. He tasted of sweet wine and something like lavender. She felt herself buckle against him, and he let her hand go to wrap his own around her waist, warm and rough and comforting. Her breasts crushed against his firm chest. He left her mouth to trail kisses down her throat, and Narkita softly moaned.

That moan brought them both back to their senses. Theo drew back and kissed her again on the mouth, soft and beguiling. He pulled her in close, so close she could feel his heart beat and his blood race.

It was so quiet. The ocean roared in the distance, and her lips stung.

"Theo," Narkita whispered, feeling his arms tighten around her body, "I can't go in there. I can't marry him, I- I don't know what's going to happen."

"Who knows what the hell will happen," he grunted, stroking her bare back in soothing circles. "You have to go in, Kita."

"I know," Narkita sighed. "I will be brave."

"Brave?" he snorted. "You have the heart of a lioness."

"A lioness," she repeated softly, and held him as close as she could. In the wake of his kiss, cold fear had seeped back into her bones. Tomas. Her father. "Theo?"

"Yes, love."

"Hold me a little longer," she murmured, and felt him kiss the top of her head. "The stars are so very beautiful."

 

 

 

///


End file.
